Déjà Vu
by Julia451
Summary: One-shot. Pseudo-crossover. While watching the Book 3 finale of "The Legend of Korra," a certain boy finds something very familiar about the hero's torture by the Red Lotus. Who is he?


He'd known it would hurt – he'd had no idea just how much. It was worse than any pain he'd ever experienced in his life. He never knew what pain was until now. It was like he was being consumed from the inside out by a raging fire. He could feel it spreading through his limbs, locked in the grip of unbreakable chains that held him hopelessly before the onslaught with no way to protect himself. He could hear nothing but his own screams of agony, see nothing but the blinding blue glow surrounding him. The pain was devouring every nerve, every bone, every cell in his body. His entire being screamed for mercy, tried to call up the powerful force within him to ward it off, to make it stop... and he couldn't let it. He couldn't give into the urge to defend himself. He had to hold it back, keep it at bay, even it took the last of his strength. He couldn't let it fight back. Because that was what his enemy wanted...

There were instants where he was just able to make out his enemy standing there, watching him, not impatiently but with... disappointment, as if upset that it had come to this. He seemed to be saying, _It didn't have to be this way. I wanted you to be my apprentice. To fight alongside me. But you missed your chance. Now this is the only way_. He tried to hold onto his hatred, remember the things the man had done, to him, to his father... he could only hold on as long his rage was stronger than the pain.

Then it stopped. His head fell forward and hung limply as he gasped for breath – he was bound too tightly to move any other part of his body. When he raised his head, he saw his enemy holding his chin in his hand, as if contemplating an anomaly in an experiment. "So much for that. All right – time for a different approach." The man walked across the laboratory to a table full of test tubes and equipment, picked up a syringe, stuck it in a glass vial, and filled with something he couldn't see from here.

He was almost too weak to speak, but, with extreme effort, he managed to whisper, "Wh-what is that?" The man didn't answer as he walked toward him, the syringe in his right hand. "What are you doing?" The glass barrier in front of him slid open, and he instinctively shifted his shoulders and pulled at his chains, but it was pointless. There was no way out. He couldn't take his eyes away from the syringe full of shiny, silver liquid. Somehow, he knew he didn't want it anywhere near him. "No, stop, stop!"

Without a word, his enemy jabbed the needle into his neck. He writhed and groaned as the poison entered his bloodstream, the pain beginning all over again. He shook his head, trying to keep control of his senses. "What... what did you do to me?"

The man grinned in satisfaction as he held up the empty syringe. "Just a little taste of mercury."

He heard someone screaming in sheer panic and mortal fear but didn't realize it was him until he felt something shaking his shoulder. He distantly heard, "... you all right?" before he bolted upright and yelled, "Get away from me!"

He heard something clatter to the floor. Panting in a cold sweat, he looked around at his own living room. He was lying on a couch, a girl with red hair and green eyes full of concern standing over him. He let out a deep sigh of relief as it sank in. A dream. Just another nightmare. He'd had that one before, although the ending was new. That part had never happened in real life – where did that come from?

The girl asked him, "You okay?"

He blinked and brushed his disheveled black hair out of his eyes. "Fine. Just a nightmare. What time is it?"

"After midnight." She bent down and picked up a dvd case from the floor. "Here it is."

He now looked at the tv behind her and saw the episode menu for _The Legend Of Korra_, Book 3, Disc 2 on the screen. Now he remembered. He must have fallen asleep during the last episode. He shifted around so that he was facing her with his feet on the floor and his back to the back of the couch. "What? You said I could watch it anytime."

"You watch these more than I do."

He grinned at her and shrugged. "So? They were made for me in the first place, not you, ya' know."

"That's obvious," she scoffed, almost with contempt.

"What?"

She glanced at the case in her hand and sighed. "Nothing, it's just... yeah, it definitely improved in Book 3, it's psychologically fascinating, it pushed a lot of boundaries, and its series finale made Western animation history, but 'the most feminist cartoon ever,' it is not."

That made him raised a questioning eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"Look at what their heroine goes through. She's symbolically raped _five times_ in _three_ seasons. Three in the first season alone, literally every four episodes. Once might be dark but good writing, however disturbing, but _five_? And that last one was the most brutal, disturbing torture scene I've ever seen in fiction. The whole series is like an experiment in finding the most creative ways to break and torture a girl."

He leaned back and rolled his eyes. "Come on, there's nothing sexist about torturing a hero..."

"_Subject is still resisting morph..."_

"... I went through the same torture myself once, ya' know."

She hung her head and glanced away from him. "After I forced you to tell me every detail? How could I forget?" There was a slight pause before she turned and looked at him. "Was it as bad as that?"

He tried to sound nonchalant. "_That_ bad? No way. Guess I'm lucky he only used electricity and not mercury." It _was_ rather eerie, though. The scene he'd just watched was _so_ similar to what he'd gone through that day... the battle, being knocked out... he vaguely remembered his enemy hoisting him over his shoulder and flying away before he lost consciousness completely... waking up in that device his powers were useless against, having his legs and arms bound in an X-shape as he'd been tortured in an attempt to force him into his more powerful form, screaming and writhing in agony the entire time, trying with all his might to resist... seeing someone else go through it gave him chills. Was it just a coincidence, or did the writers of the show know what a certain super hero had been through and used it as inspiration? Either way, no wonder the episode gave him nightmares.

Shaking his head but unable to shake off the memories, he stood up with a sigh. "I need some air." He clenched his fists and sent the surge of energy through his body.

"Come on, Danny, it's late."

"I'll be fine, Jazz," he assured her as he rose into the air.

"Okay, just be careful."

"Like the Avatar at an Equalist convention."

Once he reached the ceiling and disappeared, Jazz stepped up to the dvd player and ejected the disc, privately hoping their own spirit portal stayed closed long enough to give Danny Phantom a few hours of peace tonight.


End file.
